Page 137 of One Good Crash

I tried to think. What if I left now and came back in an hour? By then, it would be surely dark. Would that be better? Or worse?

And what if Morgan didn't leave? If Jax returned while I was gone, what on Earth would she tell him?

I could only imagine. So with a sigh, I sank down on the top step to wait.

To my infinite frustration, Morgan did the exact same thing. And then, she stretched out her long legs in front of her, as if determined to show them off to their best advantage.

Ignoring her, I pulled out my phone and checked the time. I'd left the car exactly fifteen minutes ago. Assuming that the driver was still waiting, and I only prayed he was, I had only forty-five minutes until I'd need to run back with more cash – cash I could hardly spare.

We sat in silence for several minutes before Morgan said, "Hey, do you wanna hear why we broke up?"

The question caught me off guard.Yes. I did.

But I didn't trust her one bit, so I gave a tight shrug and made no reply.

"Get this," she said. "He told me I wasn't 'wife material.' Can you freaking believe it?"

No. I couldn’t.

Slowly, I turned to study her face. She didn'tlooklike she was lying. But then again, how would I know? "And you're telling me this, why?"

With a little smirk, she eyed me up and down. "Because you're not either."

I stiffened. In spite of my best efforts, the comment got under my skin.

Probably, it was because I saw the truth of her statement. And it had nothing to do with my attire. Mostly, it was because Jax and I were from two totally different worlds, worlds that would never mesh, not long-term, anyway.

If he were just an average Joe, it might be different. But he wasn't average, not in any conceivable way. I loved everything about him, and yet, I couldn't help hating what that meant for us.

It's not that I was shopping for a husband. It's just that, well, I wasn't shopping for a fling. And this left me where, exactly?

Out in the cold, that's where.

When I made no reply, Morgan said, "I mean, sure you cleaned up nice for the party and all, but ifthisis your everyday look…" She gave a little shudder and said, "…well, I'm just saying, he's not gonna marry a slob."

If I cared one iota what she thought of me, I might've pointed out that I wasn'talwaysa slob. But all I said was, "Maybe he won't marry anyone. Maybe he's not even the marrying type."

"Oh, he is," she said. "A few months ago, I heard him talking to Jaden, telling him to stop whoring around unless he wanted his dick to fall off."

Well, that was an image I didn't need.

Still, I managed to reply, "Just because he doesn't want Jaden to be a man-whore, that doesn't mean he's looking to settle down."

"Wanna bet?" she said. "He's got this checklist and everything."

That made me pause. "What kind of checklist?"

"It's not arealchecklist. I'm just saying he's got criteria, you know." She raised a hand and started counting off on her fingers. "Educated, smart. Not too pretty."

I frowned. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah," she said. "I mean, don’t get me wrong – he's not into trolls or anything. But he doesn't go for the knockouts." She gave a dramatic sigh. "That's probably why he dumped me."

I was staring now. "Are you serious?"

"Sure." She glanced down. "I mean, look at me. I'm a knockout, right?"

Yes. She was.But the rest of her story was too unbelievable for words. And besides, her own attire was proof enough that she was lying.